Horror Was Rooted In Sympathy . .

The Soul Is An Irrational, Indivisible Equation That Perfectly Expresses One Thing: You. The Soul Would Be No Good To The Devil If It Could Be Destroyed. And It Is Not Lost When Placed In Satan's Care, As Is So Often Said. He Always Know Exactly How To Put His Finger On It.

Horror Was Rooted In Sympathy . . . In Understanding What It Would Be Like To Suffer The Worst.

You Loved Me As Hard As You Knew How. I'd Give Anything To Go Back And Love You Better.

Men, She Thought, Were One Of The World's Few Sure Comforts, Like A Fire On A Cold October Night, Like Cocoa, Like Broken-in-slippers. Their Clumsy Affections, Their Bristly Faces, And Their Willingness To Do What Needed To Be Done - Cook An Omelette, Change Lightbulbs, Make With Hugging - Sometimes Almost Made Being A Woman Fun.

You Know Someone For A While And Then One Day A Hole Opens Underneath Them, And They Fall Out Of Your World.